Circumstances
by denise1
Summary: Jack thinks about the circumstances that effect his relationship with Sam. Nice and angsty


Circumstances

By

Denise

Jack O'Neill signed at the outer checkpoint of the Cheyenne Mountain Facility, glancing curiously at the vase of roses on the desk. "Hot date?" he asked the sergeant.

"Sir?"

Jack pointed at the flowers, an odd juxtaposition of grace and beauty perched on a sterile gray metallic surface.

"Oh, they're for one of the female officers sir. I was going to deliver them on my break."

"I'm headed down now. I can take them for you," Jack said, oddly eager to play the FTD man. It would be a nice change to make someone's day.

"If you're sure sir." The sergeant handed him the vase of long-stemmed yellow roses.

"I'm sure," Jack affirmed taking the vase. "Who are they for?"

"Aah…" The man searched his clipboard. "I'm not certain…"

"We could just read the card." Jack pulled the small piece of paper out of the plastic holder and got a sick feeling in his stomach. 'Major S. Carter.' Great.

Realizing if he changed his mind now he'd just make things worse he turned and walked towards the elevator.

'Smooth move Jack,' he cursed waiting for the car to arrive. There's already a whole branch of the grapevine dedicated to him and his second and here he was bringing her roses, while she was in the infirmary no less.

The car arrived, fortunately empty, and he got in, punching the button for level 11 with a vengeance. As the doors closed he glanced at his watch, 0715. It was still early; maybe the hour would increase his chances of getting to the infirmary and dropping the flowers off unseen. And didn't Siler once say that more folks used corridor A instead of corridor C?

As he plotted he cursed the circumstances the made him plan how best to deliver flowers to his second without being seen.

It was stupid to feel guilty but damnit, things had just started getting comfortable again. The last thing either of them needed was another round of 'Love, SGC Style'.

The door pinged and he got out, using his card to access the second car that would take him the rest of the way down.

Fortunately he didn't pass any more personnel on his way to the infirmary and slipped quietly into the room. As far as he knew, Carter was the only patient at the time so he should be able to sneak in and out without being seen.

His plans came to a screeching halt when he caught sight of Janet Fraiser, walking out of her office, empty coffee cup in hand. "Doc, you're in early," he said lamely.

"Doctor Warner and I switched shifts. Very nice," she said, nodding towards the flowers.

"Yeah…Aah, they were left up top. I thought I'd bring them down," he explained. "Honestly," he said at her skeptical look.

She frowned then a look of horror crossed her face. She frantically looked at her watch. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"Joe."

"Who?"

"The ambassador. They had a date tonight," she whispered, jerking her thumb towards the bed behind the privacy curtain.

Jack looked from the white curtain to the flowers in his hand, now resembling more of an emotional land mine than a gesture of esteem. It had moved that far? He'd known they had had lunch in the commissary and he hadn't been able to miss the slight spring in her step the last few days. He'd been happy for her, a little non-alien male attention was just what she'd needed.

The anguish in her voice as she'd laid on the ramp suddenly made more sense.

Leaving behind someone you were responsible for was hard enough, leaving behind someone you cared for, even a little, was even harder. Hell, he hadn't been able to do it, not back on that ship. True the fate of earth hadn't been immediately threatened but he hadn't even considered leaving her behind.

Making a snap decision he turned on his heel.

"Colonel, what are you doing?" Janet asked, putting a restraining hand on his arm.

"I'll make them go away," he said.

"They're her flowers."

"They're flowers from a dead guy, someone she already feels horrible about leaving behind. She doesn't need the reminder," he said remembering all too well the little landmines he'd found over the years. The pictures of Charlie and Sara that would fall out of between books, the t-shirt from the back of his closet he'd worn when Charlie had taken his first steps. The old movie on TV that he and Sara had watched in the theaters on their first date. The occasional call from a telemarketer asking for the 'lady of the house'.

Each of them had been a tiny stab of pain worming its way through his armor, armor he'd spent years trying to build up.

"She may not need the reminder, but she might want the memories," Janet said, taking them from his hand.

Jack stood in the empty room as Janet walked past the curtain. He could hear a muttered conversation and guessed that Sam had woken up. In the quiet of the room he could hear the rasp of an envelope being opened and the muffled sniffs of smothered emotions. He heard more conversation, mainly from Janet, then the click of heels as she left the cubicle, surreptitiously wiping her eyes.

He met her gaze and nodded his thanks as she went back into her office.

He left the room, cursing the circumstances that not only resulted in him inadvertently hurting his friend, but also required that she face her hurt alone.

Fin


End file.
